You Can't Always Get What You Want
by Deep Roller
Summary: It seems Captain Jack Sparrow is not a child person. But who could blame him? This 7-year-old might just be the biggest brat in the seven seas.
1. Agony of a Lost Pony

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You Can't Always Get What You Want  
  
By Deep Roller  
  
A/N: With the high seas swarming with Pirate Sues, what's a girl to do but try her darndest? Oh, and pardon the horrific geography and faulty knowledge of ships, I'll work on that. Kindly looked at by my good buddy Jamie. :)  
  
Disclaimer: The only things that are mine are the plot (Plot? Huh, funny...) and Biddy. But nobody wants her so we're good to go, savvy?  
  
Market Day was always the busiest day in Port Eaton. Merchants flung their wares out into the bright sunlight, readied their voices, and began to coax the crowd. People of all sorts came through, the noise and bustle attracting any number of folks. A large, handsomely dressed and rather red faced man was plowing through the crowd, a pleased grin on his face. Depending on who you talked to, Arvide Duggleby was the most prestigious spice trader on the island. He had hired help to sell his wares, and even his own fleet out of St. George that exported cinnamon and cocoa back to Britain. His local fare, however, was reserved for Market Day. But today he was having a bit of trouble with his seven year old daughter, Biddy. He'd lost sight of her again.  
  
Wading back through the crowd, he saw the top of her messily coiffed hairdo, and sighed. Coming to her, he seized her wrist and proceeded back through the crowd, a dragging child behind him.  
  
"Da-dy!!" She caterwauled, digging her small, well polished shoes into the cobbled street as best as she could, "I was looking at the dresses! I want one, buy me one PLEASE?"   
  
"Biddy, for the love of God," Arvide said wearily as he and his daughter found a side-path that was less jammed with eager shoppers, "we have a carriage to get to, we're going to St. George. I can't stop and buy you a dress right now. I will buy you one in St. George, okay? I need to make sure this shipment is getting back to Britain on time and unharmed."  
  
"It's not fair!" Biddy began to wail, her bottom lip quivering in that tell-all gesture. "You don't love me, you HATE me daddy!"   
  
"No, no sweetheart!" Arvide said hurriedly, trying to move the child again. "It's just that these dresses are peasant stuff, we'll get you a real dress, with satin and trim, in St. George."  
  
"But how long until THEN, Daddy?" She asked, her voice a plaintive whine that grated his nerves.  
  
"About an hour's time, sweet." He led the way to a carriage that was waiting patiently, the horse stomping with a small snort. Biddy eyed the animal and came to a snap decision.  
  
"I don't want a dress when we get to St. George. I want a pony."  
  
"We'll see, darling, we'll see." Arvide said, giving a nod to the driver to start off.   
  
The winds were high, and the crew was thirsty. As it settled into berth, the captain had another of his infamous brilliant ideas. As men scrambled to lay anchor and begin tying down, he called out, "What say we get drinks'n grub? An' wenches! All in favor?"  
  
"AYE! Drinks! Grub! WENCHES!" Chorused most of the crew, those who weren't pulling or tying things and too busy to shout agreement, that was.   
  
"Good, then, good. We got enough coinage here to keep us in until DUSK!" He exclaimed with a grin. There was more cheering. Captain Jack Sparrow knew how to have a good time, and for this his crew thanked him. Well....most of his crew, anyway.  
  
"Hold it just a moment," a voice called before a woman pushed her way through to stand in front of Jack. She eyed him critically. "We can't just go prancing off, idiot. What about a guard?"  
  
"Who'd steal the Pearl here?! You always spoil the fun, Anamaria." Jack said with a careless laugh and a shrug.  
  
"No one would steal it, CAPTAIN, but there are these little things that hang around every port called 'soldiers'. And the Pearl is a wanted ship. They'll be on it before you can blink."  
  
"Not here, the Fort's out ten miles, we're safe as can be. Asides, we're just here for a good honest drink and some hot food, right?" He asked, spreading his hands and giving what he hoped was a convincing grin.  
  
"Well, at least have someone keep watch." She said, narrowing her eyes and planting her hands on her hips.  
  
"Fine, you want it so much, you do it then." He countered, tapping her shoulder as though appointing her.  
  
"Let's not be hasty." She said quickly, looking around at the crew members gathering near the gangplank. All the others avoided her glance when she tried to meet their eyes. Jack looked too, and his eyes fell upon a flash of bright blue and yellow.  
  
"Mr. Cotton!" Jack exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "The parrot."  
  
"Captain, did you ever think this was the attitude that lost you the Pearl in the first place?" The woman asked, giving him a side glance.  
  
"She's right, Jack," a fellow named Coulster supplemented. "Leavin' a parrot in charge? Askin' for trouble, that."  
  
"You want the job 'stead a him, then?" Jack asked coolly, flashing a knowing grin when Coulster shook his head vehemently. "Settled!" Mr. Cotton nodded, and placed the parrot on the railing. "Will you swear to inform us of unfriendly boarders, or threats to me Pearl?" Jack asked the macaw sternly.  
  
"I'll keelhaul THEM!" The parrot answered, giving a flap of its wings to supplement. Jack nodded and the crew sent up a hearty cheer of "drinks, grub, 'n wenches!" before trooping off the boat in search of a tavern. The parrot whistled a few bars of song before he began walking along the railing to the shrouds. Once on those, he climbed until he reached a suitable height for perching and lookout.  
  
The smooth, floral printed satin caught gleams of light in the dress shop windows. Biddy twirled happily, admiring the way the dress fluffed out like a sun umbrella. The seamstress snugly placed a gleaming, design scrawled comb into Biddy's tightly pulled back dishwater hair and nodded with approval. So did Biddy's father.   
  
"This one! This one!" She squealed excitedly, making the seamstress flinch for a moment.   
  
"My daughter has made her choice, I see. Now, I'll just pay you quickly, I have a meeting at the council buildings to get to, can't be late you know." Arvide said hurriedly, his face flushed with the new urgency of impending lateness. He and the seamstress headed to the oak counter. Distracted, Biddy skipped out into the sunlight. A large corral nestled on the small green hillside had captured her attention. Still in her new dress, she crossed the street aimlessly and, careful not to dirty the yards of pretty white ruffled dress, made her way closer to the pens.   
  
"Ponies!" She whispered happily, reaching out a hand when one curious roan came close and sniffed it. "Daddy will get me one of you," she promised softly. About to go back across the road to inform him he could buy her a pony and STILL make it to his meeting, she was caught by a heavy hand.  
  
"How many times do I have to tell you? No running off!" Arvide said through clenched teeth. "Stay with ME, Biddy. This isn't home, you can't run everywhere you please."   
  
"Look," she pointed fiercely, her wide mouth spread in a gleeful smile, "you can get me a pony here, see?" Arvide sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. The man selling the ponies looked ready to rush over to him, but Arvide gave a dissenting wave with one beefy hand before looking down at his eager, spoiled daughter.  
  
"NO, Biddy. You have seven ponies at home, a carriage, and someone to drive you around. You are NOT getting another pony. I just got you that very expensive dress like you wanted. We're going to the council building. And I don't want to hear another word about it!" He finished, his voice practically a roar. Biddy's eyes filled with tears that ran down her pudgy, lightly freckled cheeks, and she clenched her hands. "Now, no tears, love, no tears." Arvide said hurriedly. But Biddy was shaking by this time.  
  
"You're so MEAN, daddy! You don't love me! YOU HATE ME!" With another anguished cry, she flung herself to the ground.  
  
"Biddy!" He ordered through clenched teeth, angry at the scene she was making. "Biddy get up." Hauling her to her feet when she resisted, he made his way down the street towards the harbor, sweating and puffing with the effort of dragging a weeping, unwilling child with him. Trying to act nonchalant, he even waved jauntily at a passing carriage, Biddy giving a dreadful moan and screaming shrilly as they came to the harbor streets. "Now," Arvide said, firmly plunking her down on a bench outside the council and commerce building. "You are going to stay here and rethink your attitude, missy. And I'll be watching from that window, so don't even THINK about moving. When you're ready to behave like a good girl, you come in and sit next to me." So saying, he turned and strode heavily into the building.  
  
Biddy sat on the stump, still sniffling pitifully in hopes that a passerby would notice her and ask what was wrong. "My father is unkind to me", she would say if asked, a single, brave tear trickling down her cheek. "He starves me and takes away the things I love." Yes, that would earn sympathy. Maybe a pony. But she was still so mad, tears came to her eyes at the thought of the little roan nosing her. She wanted that pony so bad, her father was SO unfair! Maybe if he thought she was in danger, he'd be so relieved to get her back he'd get her a pony. Why stop there? Anything she wanted! Besides, he needed a lesson. She'd show her father, she'd show him! It was all a matter of timing.  
  
Arvide, deep in conversation with his export and spice company's middleman, turned his head away from the window where his child's flat back was pressed sulkily against the glass. He didn't see her slip off down to the docks.  
  
There were so many ships, and people. Biddy got bumped a lot as she made her way along the harbor. Trying to throw angry glances over her shoulder was no use, every time she did, she wasn't looking where she was going, and she bumped into yet another person. Giving up on that, she tried instead looking for a ship not occupied by people. People would notice her and bring her back to her father. Armed with the ignorant certainty that EVERYONE must know her father, she was left with little option but to keep searching. She also got many glances, in her bright satin dress she was hardly subtle. If she thought she was being so, she was sadly mistaken. It was rather a stupid decision to run away and hide, if she would have thought on it. Her father was constantly warning her about 'seedy types that roam the docks looking for children to steal. They'd have you faster than a blink, Biddy, you stay AWAY from docks unless you're with me or Emmeline.' Well, the maidservant wasn't there, and neither was her father. With complete disregard for her father's rules, Biddy kept going.  
  
She tripped a few times, and just about tore the seam of her dress walking past a harried looking woman with six rolls of bread in each arm. All at once, three grubby, ill fed children leapt in front of her, barring her path. The leader, a boy with tousled dark hair and wild gray eyes all but snarled at her. "Lookit here! A pet!" The other two, a boy and a girl with the same hair in various states of disarray and the same unnerving eyes, nodding in chuckling agreement. Siblings, by the looks of things. If Biddy had spent more time near the docks, or any time, she'd know these were brick layer's children, this trio particularly nasty and notorious for bullying.  
  
"'s not fair," the girl, maybe a year older than Biddy, complained, eyeing Biddy's dress with a hungry stare, "I wanna dress like that!"  
  
"Well, den, Alice, we'll get it for ya!" The first boy exclaimed.  
  
"Don't come near me!" Biddy shrilled, balling her hands into fists. "My daddy's REALLY REALLY rich and he'll do something bad to you if you hurt me!" This apparently, did not thwart her antagonists. The third boy snuck behind her and gave her back a push. She grunted in distaste at his filthy hands, trying to brush her back off.   
  
"Means naught to us, we's not rich." He said, practically in her ear. Giving a shriek of disgust, she bolted, crying once again. The wicked laughter of the children followed her, but they didn't pursue. Crying and upset at the whole mess, she pushed through the crowds, and like a miracle before her there was a ship with not a soul on guard. And the gangplank was even down. Not questioning such luck, she charged ahead, her feet thumping on the rough wood.  
  
High above, near the crow's nest, the lone watcher saw her board. "Drink up," he reminded himself. He couldn't be bothered with warning the crew, he had preening to do. Tucking back into his flight feathers, he resolved to fly out to them later.  
  
No one was on deck, either. Good, this was absolutely wonderful. But those awful children, DIRTY one had TOUCHED her, might be after her. She needed a place to hide. Looking around, chest hitching with every breath, she didn't see anywhere. Blundering around on deck, she found near the wheel a small rope handle and pulled, hoping against hope it led to a secret hatch. "Whah??!" She exclaimed, seeing bottle upon bottle of amber liquid stacked there. Well, no room for her. Maybe this wasn't the best ship to hide on. Going along the foredeck, she was muttering to herself. A concave area revealed a set of dimly lit stairs. She took these down to the bottom. Maybe here, she might be safe here. Opening a rustic looking door revealed an even dimmer room. This one had what looked to be a cell, and a small table. Perfect hiding place. Crouching, she wiggled under the table. "Ewwww" She muttered. The floor was cold and a wee bit damp, and it soaked straight through her lovely dress. Well, when she was sure a reasonable amount of time had passed, she would return to the council building and tell her Daddy about the mean urchins who had hit her and called her names. He'd buy her a new one, a red one to match the pony.  
  
After a little while, she began to grow bored, and her legs cramped. Crawling out from under the table, she stretched with a small yelp as complaining muscles gained feeling once again. Her dress dragged on the gritty floor, and she sighed in heavy dismay. Nothing to do about it now. Climbing back up the steps, she froze. Were those steps she heard? Quickly flattening herself against the doorframe, she listened again. Her dress, however, had other ideas. It poofed out like banner of welcome from the head of the stairs.   
  
"But I DID mudda gudda summllll" a voice argued, slurring and swaying as the owner made its way up the gangplank.  
  
"Aye, you sure did! Gave 'em hell, what!" Another voice, a little less slurred but still not entirely lucid, agreed. A large, drunken mass of voices further down agreed.  
  
"Twas a good day, let's be off now! Get to work!" Was all Biddy heard before she frantically ran back down the stairs and into the jail room. She heard the sound of ropes being pulled and orders shouted, and her heart began to thud heavily. She had to hide until they left again. They would, she hoped. If they caught her, she'd be in BIG TROUBLE. But the table wasn't an option. The creaking sound of a door made her give a breathless shriek before she spotted a small crawlspace. It was nestled beside a cannon, but no one would see her. Leaping up onto the small platform, the little girl shoved herself into the space, too terrified to think straight. Then a plan began to form, a good plan. She'd go above and talk to the people working the ship when they were a little ways out to sea. She'd ask them to put her in a boat and send her back, if they promised not to tell her father. If she waited long enough, they'd just do it and wouldn't argue, she was sure.  
  
That settled, she looked out the tiny piece window the cannon's cold metal body wasn't obscuring. Weary from all the walking she wasn't used to and all the stress, her head sank slowly to the small arms resting on the tucked in knees, and soon she was earnestly asleep, out of sight and out of mind for the time being.  
  
"Where are we headed now, Cap'n?" Gibbs asked, shading his eyes to the oncoming sun. He and Jack were standing at the prow. Well, he was, Jack was leaning against the wheel sleepily. They hadn't stayed till dusk, but most of the crew had gotten properly drunk. Still, Jack was able to steer the ship out of St. George and into open waters. He could, he'd brag often, do it with his eyes closed. But he'd rather do it drunk, he added this time, taking another swig from the bottle he had brought on board from the tavern. Now, though, he was leaning into the wheel and staring intently at the sea.  
  
"You know something? I have NO idea. Not back there, though, I can say that. Too many stuck up ladies full of bloody propriety. Give 'em to me ugly and plain, and fun, I say."  
  
"Aye," Gibbs agreed, tipping his own flask to a grin. "So, no clue, eh?"  
  
"We could always head to Tortuga, friendly waters and such. To plan further good fun. We DO need a restock," he admitted, tapping the hatch below him. "We're gettin' low on emergency rum. Only fifty bottles left. But we'll see, find out when we get around to it, most like. Turnbuckle!" He suddenly called. A short, wide eyed fellow appeared at his elbow. "Just keep her heading north. Awright?"  
  
"Aye, captain." The man agreed, taking the wheel as Jack strode away to inspect the rest of his crew.   
  
All were done with their chores and were sleeping off the trip in to port, leaning against the mast, against the deck, or against each other. Most snored loudly, the sound rising louder than the slap of the waves on the ship's hull. It had been fun, Jack decided, they needed to do it more often. He had no particular place to go, so a nap was in order for him as well. Heading to his quarters, he gave a nod to Gibbs before shutting the door.  
  
Her muscles screamed for release, pulling her from her troubled dreams. She was chilly and confused from sleep, and blinked heavily at her surroundings. Where was she? What had happened? And then it came to her in a huge rush. Her heart thudding, she slowly got out of her crouch against the cannon holding. Letting out a loud gasp of pain with no thought of muffling it, she cautiously flexed arms and legs. Frozen in position for near ten hours, they twinged like knives, and more gasps, more like shrieks, began to follow. "Ow! OWWWWWW!" She yelled as her back creaked, and then her neck. "YOWCH!" Her scream was so loud it echoed in the small room, and for a moment Biddy paused, almost as though waking up to the reality of her situation. But the flashing wash of pain was keeping her from doing much but making a great deal of noise. So much noise that one of the crew members who was dozing with his ear pressed to the deck was jarred from his slumber.  
  
"Hey, hey wake up," he said to the man next to him, shaking him violently. "Either I'm still drunk, or there's a murder goin' on down in the brig." He said in a whisper when his companion had woken up. The other one belched loudly before giving a listen.  
  
"I dunno, I hear it too. Reckon we tell Jack?"  
  
"Nah, what if it's him doin' the yellin'?"  
  
"Thass not Jack, stupid. Thass a girl yellin'!" The first man argued.  
  
"How can yah tell? You heard a girl yell afore, mate? Oh yeah, prolly one yellin' at you to get outta their sight!" The second one jested, earning a punch in the nose.   
  
"I'm gonna go have a look. Come on, then, don't wanna go alone." Getting up, the first one dragged the second to his feet and they made their way cautiously down the steps. Once down in the quarters, the first one heard the screams again. "Thass comin' from the brig!" He determined, leading the way once more.  
  
Biddy, hopping around on alternating feet, was surprised to see two men poke their heads in. She screamed again, in mingled fear and pain, for yet another muscle cramp seized her.  
  
"What the hell..?" The first man asked in surprise as he watched the small girl in the VERY out of place dress leaping around the brig.   
  
"You say somethin'? I can't hear no more!" The second shouted, Biddy's scream still lodged in his ears and, enhanced by his massive hangover, rebounding painfully.  
  
About this time, Biddy realized that her plan involved talking to the people aboard the ship, and stopped screaming. Trying to straighten out her dress, she marched over to the two very surprised crew members.  
  
"I wanna go home. Put me on a boat and don't tell my daddy I ran away, and I won't be any more trouble." She announced sagely, hands behind her back. Both men continued to stare at her. "I said I wanna go HOME." She enforced when neither spoke. "Me, home, boat."  
  
"I think we better go see Anamaria. She's like this'un, she'll know what to do about their kind." The second man said wisely.   
  
"Look, you...stay here, or follow us, or whatever. Just no more screamin', okay? Hurts the ears, you know." Biddy nodded and followed them with all the delicate dignity she could muster. Maybe this 'Anamaria' was the Lady of the ship. Baffled by the man's reference to 'their kind', she picked her way around sleeping crew members, emitting little sounds when one breathed on her ankle or her dress hem caused one to wiggle his nose.  
  
They went the length of the ship, and at the stern there was a small room for storage of things like lines, spare sails, and such. Anamaria was busy taking inventory, ticking things off on her fingers and looking rather irritated when Biddy's discoverers tapped her on the shoulder.  
  
"What?" She spun on them, causing Biddy to gasp. She wasn't a Lady at all! She was filthy in ill fitting clothes, with an absurd hat and tangled, horrible hair. Why, she looked like a man dressed in those clothes. Any respect or liking Biddy had fostered up until now vanished as Anamaria's dark eyes wandered to her. "Who in the world is that?" She asked, pointing and glaring at Biddy. As disgusted with the "woman" as she was, Biddy quailed at the look.  
  
"Dunno, she's a woman and you is, we figured you'd know where she came from, and such."   
  
"What GREAT logic, Pib." Anamaria remarked, rolling her eyes when Pib beamed at what he believed to be a compliment. "Either of you try asking her where she's from?"  
  
"St. George. And I wanna go back!" Biddy piped up nervously, clinging to the hem of her own skirts.   
  
"Oh hell," Anamaria muttered, thundering to the captain's quarters and pounding on the door. "Captain Sparrow! Captain Sparrow get your lazy no good self out here!" She yelled, making Biddy jump again, and start crying. Everyone was so mad.   
  
Jack, blinking from sleep and opening the door in a sort of daze, took one look at Anamaria's face and shut the door again.   
  
"OPEN IT RIGHT NOW!" She roared with enough fury to make a lion start. Jack opened the door, sighing.   
  
"Look, if it's about us almost out of rum..." he began, looking at her uneasily.  
  
"Just take a look at what the cats dragged up." Jack's eyes widened and he rubbed them a few times as he stared disbelievingly at Biddy, who was still crying. For her part, she tried to hide even more. He was SCARY.   
  
"Where'd it come from?" He asked, still staring at her.  
  
"St. George."  
  
"How'd you get on the ship?" Jack asked the now sobbing child.  
  
"The...the gangplank....children...teasing...I...I-"  
  
"WHO LEFT THE GANGPLANK DOWN?" Anamaria shouted again, startling Biddy into fresh shrieks and sobs, and causing Pib and his companion to wisely step away.  
  
"Well, we were all too drunk to get on any other bloody way." Jack reasoned.   
  
"This is what happens when you leave a parrot in charge, Captain Sparrow. Now we're stuck with her!"  
  
"In his defense, Mr. Cotton's parrot was told to warn us if threatening persons came aboard the Pearl. This is hardly a threatening person. He was doing his job." Jack pointed out.  
  
"I don't care. We have to take her back unless we want a bloody armada after us."  
  
"It's only a little person. They float when they're small, don't they? Toss it overboard, it'll go back to shore." This caused more sobbing, and Jack backed up a few steps from Biddy, eyes wide in puzzlement.  
  
"Look at her. She's rich, the silk, the leather choker, I bet it has her family surname on it." Anamaria said, pointing to the choker around Biddy's neck. To Biddy's utter fright, Jack leaned in for a closer look at the small, circular silver piece imbedded in the center which indeed was scrawled with the word "Duggleby".  
  
"Bloody hell, Duggs!" Jack exclaimed with a laugh. "That's the fleet we got all that nice cinnamon from. Was great on the bread and all too." He added with another reminiscent chuckle.  
  
"Great. So if they DO come after us, he knows you've stolen from him before. This just gets better. They'll cry 'kidnap' and it's all over for us."  
  
"Now, why don't we just send her out to the nearest colony? I already forget where St. George is, so we'll just put her among the nearest people we come to."  
  
"You forget where St. George is?" Anamaria asked in disbelief.   
  
"Prefer to. Don't wanna go that way again. I know where Tortuga is, though." He said with a nod. "St. George is one of those fancy places. Good drink, but much too stuffy. Tortuga's better."  
  
"Well, what are we going to do about the stowaway?" Anamaria queried wearily. Jack shrugged.   
  
"You look after her. She's a girl, you are too. No offense, but you are." He added, his hands up defensively against any attack. "So, take her and soothe her or whatever it is you do, while I work out a plan, savvy?" And before Anamaria could object, Jack had gone back into his room, wisely locking and bolting the door this time.  
  
Anamaria was left standing high and dry, looking hopelessly at a sobbing Biddy. "Oh, this will just be one BIG barrel of laughs." She muttered to herself, taking the girl's limp wrist and leading her belowdecks with leaden steps. 


	2. I Always Keep My Word

You Can't Always Get What You Want  
  
Chapter Two  
  
A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Such nice reviews too. Let's keep going, shall we? I know kids, I'm scared too.#  
  
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Disclaimer: Disney owns most of the characters in the story, St. George on Grenada Island is a real place (although I think it's St. George's, but who's picky?), and I am making no money from this endeavor. Wow, that was the stupidest disclaimer in history.   
  
Anamaria took Biddy belowdecks to the crew's quarters, a scowl still on the woman's face. The little girl was still crying, but since her voice had about from all the screaming, it was hoarse and mercifully not as keening. Biddy plodded along with none of the resistance she had given her father that morning. It seemed she was too tired to fight anymore.  
  
Thinking the girl had resigned herself to her fate, Anamaria was nearly pulled off her feet when Biddy balked violently at the door to the small bunk.   
  
"I'm not going in THERE." Biddy said, a healthy dose of her previous disgusted obstinacy returning to her voice.   
  
"You sure as hell better." Anamaria growled, her patience disappearing as quickly as the last half inch of a lighted keg fuse.  
  
"But it's dirty, and dark, and..." Biddy protested meekly under her warder's sharp stare.  
  
"Fine, you want a light?" Anamaria asked, stalking into her cabin and rooting for her matches. Finding one, she struck it and lit the grungy oil lamp near the door. The shadows lessened, revealing a very small room with two beds lined side by side and a trunk at the foot of one. One was barracks-neat while the other looked decidedly slept in, the blankets thrown back to reveal what looked like a straw mattress. Biddy cringed, it was a far, far cry from what she was used to. "There. Now, in." Shoving Biddy in roughly, she shut the door and pointed to the unmade bed. "Sit." Sensing the dangerous drip in the woman's voice, Biddy sat without further protest, wrinkling her nose at the furnishings.   
  
"What're you gonna do with me?" She asked nervously as Anamaria sat on the opposite bed and rubbed her temples. "Toss...toss me overboard?" And then she began her noisy crying again.  
  
"God, I wish." Anamaria muttered into her hands before attempting to stop the crying. "No, no. Captain Sparrow's just a little touched. He'll think of something else. St. George is now more than half a day's sail away, and...well, we need port faster than that."  
  
"But I want to go home NOW." She wailed.  
  
"Should've thought of that before you got on the ship." Anamaria quipped, pulling off her boots. "Why did you? Get on board, that is?"  
  
"I was being chased. By big scary men, they were going to kidnap me. But before that, my father threw me out of the house." The natural storyteller in Biddy surfaced through her bone weary fright and took the helm. Anamaria raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Did he, now? They were? Well, you're not too much better off with our bunch, little girl. What's your name again?" Might as well know what to call her when we have to tell her to stop screaming, anyway, Anamaria reasoned.   
  
"Biddy. Biddy Duggleby." She recited quietly. "Is there a nicer cabin than this? It's just dismal in here. I need something with more sun, and a bigger bed."  
  
"This is the biggest we got, excepting the captain's quarters. And it's only this big because I'm the only woman aboard and need things to myself." Anamaria explained, her tone stating clearly that this was total rubbish. "But you're staying here tonight." She added, sighing. She'd never get to sleep, this little snot would keep her up the entire night with complaints.  
  
"Alright. But I'll need a bath, and you'll have to comb out my hair, and I need a night dress. I didn't bring anything with me." Anamaria laughed, and hearing her, Biddy scowled heavily. "Just what is so funny?" She demanded haughtily, crossing her arms.  
  
"There's no bathing on this ship, can't afford to use up our good water. No bathing rooms, and dresses? Forget it. Here," she added, rummaging in the trunk at the foot of the bed she was sitting on for a moment. "Wear this."   
  
What seemed to be a limp gray bird soared the distance between the beds and landed in Biddy's startled arms. Picking up the hem of the shirt with her thumb and forefinger, Biddy sniffed loudly. It was indeed gray with age, holes decorating the sleeves and a large tear on the collar. "I am NOT wearing that. I will look like a boy." She pronounced, tossing the shirt away. "I'll just sleep in my dress. But you have to comb my hair out."  
  
"Do it yourself, I'm tired." Anamaria waved her away, pulling back the covers of her bed and crawling in.  
  
"But you HAVE to!" Biddy cried desperately. "Emmeline does it and I can't!"  
  
"Emmeline?" Anamaria turned around, frowning. "Who's that?"  
  
"The maidservant. She dresses me, too." Another laugh.  
  
"There aren't any maidservants on THIS ship, I hate to say. It's do it yourself or it won't be done around here, little one." She added with a shake of her head. Biddy threw another nasty scowl in Anamaria's direction before turning her attention to her hair. How could she get it down herself? She'd never tried it before. Her fingers found their way clumsily to the comb, and gave it a yank. She squealed when it felt as though every root of her hair was being taken with the comb. Giving another few (though far less forceful) yanks, she finally got the thing free. Her hair stuck out in tangles and frays from every edge of her now wrecked bun. Trying to work that free proved useless. She couldn't find where it ended or began, it was just tightly coiled. Or had been, since her fingers were working at it, hair began to creep out of uniform. Grunting and flinching, Biddy scrabbled, her arms getting sore from all the work. Finally, her fingers found what she needed and she gave another tug.  
  
Dirty, tangled, and nothing like the fresh, fashionable work Emmeline had made it that morning, her hair came loose. Sighing as though she had run a mile, Biddy sank back awkwardly onto the bed. A moment later, Anamaria sat up and turned the light off. She had watched the whole display from the corner of her eye with a good deal of amusement and disbelief. This girl was almost completely helpless. But that wasn't her worry. Turning over, she rolled her eyes into the darkness as Biddy whimpered at the loss of light.  
  
The mattress was indeed straw, and it poked Biddy's back through her dress and through the blanket covering it. She longed for her soft feather bed and fragrant pillow. Feeling a wave of sadness, she sat up. It was too small, too cluttered, and too dark in here. What had Anamaria said? The captain's quarters were biggest. Well, she'd seen them earlier that evening, and she had another plan. She'd just have to wait until Anamaria went to sleep.  
  
Arvide Duggleby was in a state. Coming out of the council building, his mild annoyance at finding his daughter gone had turned to total panic when an hour later she was nowhere to be found. He roved the docks like a lost man, questioning everyone he came to. So many ships had come and gone all day at St. George, it was impossible to tell if she had stashed away on one.   
  
With a thin hope that she had somehow hailed a carriage and gone home to Port Eaton, he returned home himself to look. Ridgecroft, the large mansion and spice farm that he and Biddy lived on, was empty. No sign of her anywhere. Emmeline, the maidservant, helped him look. Though her cries of "what have we done? What HAVE we done?" were of little help.   
  
"We must return to St. George, and get to Fort Frederick." Arvide announced, trying to be stoic. In the span of time that his daughter had been gone, his face looked somehow more gaunt and hollow, he had lost all of his previous red flush, and his voice was wavering between weary and hysterical.  
  
"But sir, the fleet an' all the soldiers are out near Carricou fightin' with that French battleship tried to lay anchor in the harbor. Don't think a soul's at the Fort right now."  
  
"How do you know that, Emmeline?" Arvide turned to the small, rather pale woman, curious despite his current situation.   
  
"Danworth, sir, his son's out fightin' with 'em, sends in the post an' he tells alla us." Emmeline replied, pleased. Danworth was the chief farm worker for Ridgecroft's fields.  
  
"Well, there's bound to be someone there, or anywhere. If I have to, I'll sail clear back to Britain to get her." Arvide announced, Emmeline nodding agreement and following in his wake as they headed to the barn to instruct a carriage prepared.  
  
"I'm sorry, the Admiral has the fleet out near Carricou. Pesky little cleanup of an attempted invasion, they should be back in a few day's time." The lone soldier guarding the Fort's impossibly tall iron gate informed them. You may leave your message and trust that it will be received."  
  
"We will stay until they return." Arvide said firmly, nodding to Emmeline and the driver. "This is a matter of the most grievous importance, I'm sure you will understand. If your commanding officer returns and is unpleased to find us here, I will assure that I receive all the blame and that you are cleared of any. Arvide Duggleby's word." The soldier knew little of Duggleby's word, but much of his affluence and nodded. If he complied, he wouldn't receive any retribution, and might even make a small profit. With a small salute, the gate swung open to admit the small party into the Fort.  
  
Captain Jack Sparrow was having a good dream. He was sitting on what had to be the world's biggest stockpile of gold and rum. And it was all his, he didn't have to share it with anyone! A small creaking sound didn't turn his head at all. But a big fat ruby did. He grinned as he picked it up, and laughed with his own sheer cleverness. Stretching out amidst all the gold and grabbing one of the bottles , he heard an odd sort of muffled cry and seconds later felt something grab hold of his toe and clamp down hard. With a surprised yell, he woke up. Seeing something on the floor, he prodded it with his foot, and it shrieked. What the....? He stumbled hurriedly out of bed and looked around for a light.  
  
Biddy had waited until she was sure Anamaria was asleep, giving her a gentle poke to be sure. Creeping quietly out of the cabin, she snuck on deck. All of the men were in their own cabins except the fellow on watch and the man steering the ship. Making as little noise as possible, she crept along the deck, trying to remember where Anamaria and the two who had found her had been standing earlier that day.   
  
Ahah! Here it was. She gave it a small push, hoping against hope that it wasn't locked. It wasn't. After Jack had sat at his desk for awhile, looking important in case anyone DID break down the door in a fit of rage (it had been known to happen), he decided the coast was clear and went back out to check the course of the ship and to have his regular almost nearly quarter to midnight drink. Returning to his quarters for sleep, he had failed to lock it again. After all, Anamaria had taken the unexpected passenger with her, and he had nothing to worry about now.   
  
Slipping through the door, she nodded in approval. There were bigger windows here, and although it wasn't as tidy as Anamaria's bunk, it was much bigger. Trying to sleep in the armchair was no good, her sore muscles complained at being bent again. And she couldn't very well stay in an occupied bed. But perhaps the floor. She pulled a few pillows off the far side of the bed and arranged them on the floor at the bedside. She needed the blanket and the only way to get it was to stay as close to the edge of the bed as possible, the side that Jack wasn't sleeping on, of course. Pulling some of the blankets down over her small round frame, she tried not to think about what would happen if the scary man woke up to find her sleeping on his floor. Maybe Anamaria didn't believe he'd actually throw her overboard, but she believed it.  
  
She'd just have to get out before anyone else woke up. Laughter coming from up above scared her, she thought he was awake. Freezing, she relaxed when she heard him start to snore. He was just dreaming, and she was tired again. So tired. A kick in the face woke her up, and so startled was she that she sank her teeth into the assailant, which happened to be Jack's foot. It pulled away and she yelped too, trying to get under the bed. But another kick, this one more of a prod, met with her stomach and she made an involuntary sound.  
  
The light revealed Biddy in her stained dress and scraggly hair frantically trying to get under the bed. Once again Jack felt a feeling of puzzlement. It all seemed incredibly surreal to him. Maybe he was still dreaming. The pain in his foot from where she had bitten him told a different story. Might as well find out which it was.  
  
"Hey, what're you doing in here?" He asked Biddy, crossing over and pulling her out from under the bed by her ankles. Only her head and shoulders had made it under, and she was clawing furiously at the floor to stay up. "You're not supposed to be in here!" He added irritably. "What're you doing that for?" Jack added, watching as she spat and wiped her mouth, and spat again. "You sick?"  
  
"Your feet," Biddy managed to get out between wiping her mouth and spitting, "are FILTHY."  
  
"Well, yes, I don't tend to wash them. You see, not many people eat them. Now, back to the point at hand. What are you doing in here?" He asked this very slowly, and grumbled when once again Biddy started to cry.  
  
"Dark and scary in that other place, too small. And the straw was poking me!" She added angrily through her tears. Jack wondered briefly where all that water came from and why she wasn't out of tears by now. Well, it was giving him a headache, so he had to stop it.  
  
"Look, if you stay here, will you stop crying?" He asked, wishing she would say no so he could get back to his nice dream about rum and gold. And that ruby, it was pretty. But he had a feeling she would say...  
  
"Yes. Yes, I'll stop, promise."   
  
"Alright, then. Just pretend you're dead or something, that way I can go back to sleep." What had he said? She was crying AGAIN!! This had to stop. "Look at me," he said sternly, pulling Biddy up by her shoulders and facing her so she was looking in squarely in the eyes. She hiccuped and squirmed, trying to get away. "You cry anymore and I'll toss you right outside on your ear. I mean it." This didn't work, as she only cried harder. "What in the hell can I do to make you stop CRYING?" He asked, aiming his words at the ceiling of the room.  
  
"Tell me a story." Biddy said with a heavy sniffle, " I like stories, Emmeline told me stories."  
  
"Fine, fine, I'll tell you a story, okay? Just be quiet. Oh no, you don't!" He protested when Biddy crawled onto his bed and leaned against the pillow. "Off....never mind." He muttered crossly when her lip quivered. "But tomorrow you're going RIGHT back to Anamaria's bunk, and no complaints. ANYTHING to get sleep." Jack muttered, looking at the little urchin that had stolen his sleeping place. Maybe if he put her to sleep, he could move her again. "Right, so we were sailing clear up near Greece and...."  
  
Anamaria was hopeful that somehow it had all been one terrible dream when she saw Biddy's bed empty. Maybe, just maybe she didn't have to worry about a sniveling little brat in a silk dress. But something told her different, and with a grumble she walked out onto the deck. Where would the complaining little wench be? She'd talk to Jack before starting a search. They'd have to find her eventually, in case Duggleby sent a rescue party searching for her and the Pearl was accosted and questioned. Pib and Muggins would no doubt spill the whole tale if that came to it. They weren't exactly known for subtlety.  
  
Anamaria knocked first, and when that evoked no response, she pushed the door open a crack. Biddy was curled up on the bed, her once beautiful dress now even more stained and though still vibrant in color, heavily wrinkled. Her hair covered half her face and she clutched a pillow as though for dear life. Sleeping, Anamaria reflected, she wasn't that horrible. Jack was sleeping too, leaning in his desk chair with his head dropped slackly back, and snoring loudly. His story had put his own self to sleep before it had Biddy, and she had gotten her way once again. Sighing, she walked into the room and poked him fiercely on the shoulder.  
  
"Not again!" He shouted, waking up and pushing his arms out as though fighting off an invisible enemy.  
  
"Shhh, she's asleep!" Anamaria cautioned in a whisper. "Have you thought of what to do with her?"  
  
"Make her work. She's on board like one of us, she's going to work like one of us. That oughta keep her tired, too. She came in here last night and bit my foot." He added, showing her the offending foot before pulling on his boots. "We're a day and a half out of Tortuga, we can make it. Teach her the bowline and have her be lookout." He added, waving Anamaria away distractedly.  
  
"Captain Sparrow, this girl is hopeless. HOPELESS. She couldn't climb the rigging if her life depended on it."  
  
"Then have her scrub. Anyone can scrub. She'll do it or she won't. If she doesn't, she sleeps out on deck. Make sure that doesn't happen, we don't need to be up all night listening to her crying. And you're in charge of her. So get her to it."  
  
Sighing, Anamaria shook Biddy until the girl woke. "Come on, time to get up, you're going to work."  
  
"Work?" Biddy moaned, sitting up and rubbing her head. She had the makings of a black eye, from where Jack's foot had found her face. "I don't DO work, that's servant's stuff." She pouted before getting yanked off her feet and out onto the deck.   
  
Jack followed them and, taking the wheel from the current helmsman Kursar, turned to address his assembling crew. "Alright, mates, we're headed to Tortuga." There was a cheer from the crowd, Tortuga was the favorite of all of them. "So get to work, all of ya!" He added, to which there was a scramble and flurry of activity. Anamaria took Biddy to the port side and gave her a length of rope.   
  
"Now, you're going to tie this to the railing, alright? Like this." But Biddy was stubbornly not listening, and had thrown her rope over the side of the ship. Anamaria got another one and clamped down on Biddy's hands, working her fingers and tying the knot. She kept doing it until she felt Biddy's hands do it too. But the moment she let go, th rope went over the side again.  
  
"I. Don't. Work." Biddy restated calmly, crossing her arms.  
  
"Oh yes, you do." Anamaria, earning several curious stares, dragged Biddy to the brig she had been discovered in. On her way, she grabbed a small scrub brush and a bucket. She also got, from the weapons store, a cutlass rusty with sea air. Plunking the bucket down, she pointed to Biddy and then to the floor. "Scrub it." She said grimly. When Biddy turned her nose up, Anamaria drew the cutlass and tapped the bucket gently. "Scrub the floor." She said again, quietly.  
  
After two hours, Biddy and Anamaria emerged from the brig, Anamaria sopping wet, both she and Biddy looking decidedly disgruntled. Seeing Jack, Anamaria shoved the little girl in his direction. "I have dealt with her long enough, YOU take her for a change! I'm getting dry." And with that she stormed off. Jack, completely surprised, looked down at Biddy in his bewilderment.  
  
"What on earth did you do to her?" He asked, looking from Biddy to the retreating Anamaria.  
  
"Tripped. Bucket spilled is all." Biddy replied with a nasty smile.  
  
"Alright, you're going to do something for me, now." Jack said, feeling confident he could handle this little brat easily. "Take hold of the wheel and steer the ship."  
  
"Don't wanna." Biddy said, shaking her head.  
  
"Do it, or I WILL toss you overboard." Gulping but remembering that Anamaria hadn't used the sword, she shook her head again, closing her eyes. The sting of cold saltwater made her shriek, and brought three crew members running over to see what Jack had done. "I said I'd do it." He remarked with a shrug as Biddy struggled and gasped, trying to stay afloat.  
  
"You can't throw a little girl overboard!" Kursar said in shock.  
  
"Look, she's floating!" Jack said defensively, pointing to the water where Biddy had been a second before. Now, however, there was only a small splash of white foam. "She was." He remarked. "Why do I always seem to be doing this?" Asking this of no one in particular, he tossed his effects onto the deck and jumped inelegantly into the water, Biddy, mouth open in a terrified scream, looked up at the descending person coming after her. She reached frantically, her little hands wiggling. Catching her wrists, Jack backpedaled in the water and kicked to the surface. By the time they had reached it, she had swallowed a good deal of sea water, and her body was slack in the circle of his arm.  
  
"Get me up, you damn bloody blighters!" He yelled, reaching for the rope that was offered. Back aboard the ship, he put a dripping Biddy on the deck.   
  
"Give her a whack, she ain't breathin'!" Gibbs called as he pushed his way through the throng.   
  
"But I thought you of all of us'd be glad to get rid of her, back luck and all." Jack said reasonably. "Oh, fine, I'll do it." And he leaned in closer to pick her up and hit her back. At that moment, Biddy coughed explosively, spraying sea water all over Jack's face. Her eyes fluttered open and she glared at him.  
  
"You threw me overboard!!" She shrilled.  
  
"I told you I would. I always keep my word." He said. "Get back to work!" He added to the crowd peering at them curiously. At this point, Anamaria, in dry clothes now, came out and took in the whole scene with a blink. "I handled it." Jack informed her. "We had an earnest discussion of ideas and she saw it my way."  
  
"She's shivering. We'll catch it if she catches cold. Come on," she added to Biddy, pulling her up. "You have to get out of that wet dress, and get dry." Whimpering and shivering, her teeth chattering too hard to talk, Biddy followed her.  
  
"I look like a BOY." Biddy said grumpily a little later. The ruined dress and slip discarded, she was now garbed in a shirt that was far too large for her, and pants that had been cut and then rolled up, the belt looped around her waist a good five times. The shirt's sleeves were rolled up to the shoulders, and the severely pouting seven year old was NOT happy. "I want my dress back. I don't want to look like a boy."  
  
"You will wear that, and like it. And you will get back to work, without complaint. Or you're going overboard again, this time for good." Anamaria flexed her fingers warningly, and Biddy gulped. Both females were scowling when the appeared again, and Biddy worked the rest of the day without complaint. Well, without as much complaint, anyway.  
  
That night, as Jack had predicted, she slept like a rock in Anamaria's bunk. "You are such a terror, we should just leave you in Tortuga. I hope someone's looking for you, because you need to get off this ship. And people said it was cursed before." Anamaria muttered quietly as she stared at Biddy's curled back.   
  
At the prow, Jack and Gibbs were about saying the same thing.  
  
"So, that little hellion been driving you mad today, Jack?" Gibbs asked, staring off into the sea.  
  
"When we get to Tortuga, we're leaving her with the first person who looks at us." He replied with heavy resolve before heading off to his cabin. Gibbs shrugged and then nodded to himself. He'd tried telling Jack, but he let the evidence speak for itself. It was as he always said, powerful bad luck to have a woman aboard. And he held firmly that Biddy was only proving him right. 


	3. Clingy

You Can't Always Get What You Want  
  
Chapter Three  
  
A/N: I apologize once again for horrible geography, what passes for nautical knowledge, and grammatical errors. This little baby's going in for editing once I get her up, so she'll come out new and beautiful. Yay!  
  
Disclaimer: Disney is the king of the heap and I have my little spot at the bottom.  
  
"Ah, there it is! Tortuga!" Gibbs exclaimed the next morning as the Pearl drew near to the small sheltered place. "Looks a mite crowded at port, though. We'll not be able to anchor in the shallows." He added, taking out a spyglass and adjusting it accordingly. "What should we do, Captain?"   
  
"Take a longboat, and five others. Get out there and stake out a berth that's deep enough. If you can't, come back and we'll just set anchor here." Jack advised, turning to face the rear of the ship. "Anamaria!" He called , surprised when both she and Biddy showed up in front of him. They had been checking anchor chain, and both looked a little sooty. Biddy looked nothing like the clean, well groomed child that had come aboard the ship. She was soot blackened, dirt streaked, and dressed in ridiculously large clothing. But her expression remained somewhat the same, though the soaking from the previous day had apparently given her attitude some adjustment since she had been working with no complaint.  
  
"Yes, Captain?" Anamaria asked, brushing sweat from her eyes.  
  
"I want you to head out with Gibbs and go scouting in Tortuga for me. I can take care of the little girl," he added with a confident smile. Biddy looked worriedly from Jack to Anamaria before her hands locked fiercely on the woman's arm. After all, having spent the majority of her time aboard with Anamaria, Biddy had come to trust her more than the rest. She didn't want to stay with the man who had thrown her overboard, he might do it again just for fun if she was left behind with him and the others....  
  
"Don't go! Don't leave me here! Please?" She asked plaintively, her face imploring. Anamaria blinked at her, a bit surprised at the tone the child was using. It was so much different than her normal two tones of voice, squeaky whining or disgust. Sincere, she thought, like Biddy really didn't want her to go. But orders were orders, and she DID miss Tortuga a lot.  
  
"Captain's orders." She shrugged at Biddy, gently extracting her arm from the child's hold. "One thing you learn aboard a ship, always obey the captain. When they say jump, you better jump or you'll find no leg to jump with." Giving Anamaria a look that displayed a sense of utter betrayal, Biddy's face reassembled in her usual scowl.  
  
"Better hurry," Jack advised Anamaria and the reappearing Gibbs. "Sky's looking a bit gray. Might rain, seas'll be rough in the longboat."   
  
"Aye." Gibbs nodded, beckoning to the other three men as Anamaria leaped into the longboat. "Little devil ain't comin' too, is she?" He asked low in Anamaria's ear as they descended to the water.  
  
"No, she's aboard. I worry about her, left alone with Jack." Anamaria said, glancing apprehensively back up at the Pearl.  
  
"Yeah, he might do something stupid like throw her overboard again. Last thing we need when her family catches up to us is to tell them she's dinin' with Davy Jones." Gibbs muttered as he rowed.  
  
"Well, they don't know we have her." Anamaria reasoned. "And she's been much better since she got back aboard, so I don't know. He's just not good at dealing with her, doesn't really understand that she's a child and not used to things like us. Damn all, Gibbs, a ship is NO place for a little rich girl. Especially not a ship like the Pearl."  
  
"You got that right," he agreed, adding, "but now all we have to think about is rowing for Tortuga afore the water gets rougher!"  
  
Arvide and Emmeline spent a restless night at the fort. Worried about Biddy's safety, the man rose every few minutes to peer out the lookout window and scan the sea. No sign of any ships. It left him free to imagine just exactly what could have or might be happening currently to his only daughter. Perhaps if he hadn't spoiled her so heavily, or protected her so much, this wouldn't be happening to him now. But he couldn't help it, she was all he had left.  
  
He had come to Grenada twelve years ago with his wife Bedelia, his young daughter Margaret, and a dose of ambition. But Margaret got sick soon after they arrived, a wasting sickness that took almost six months to claim her. He and Bedelia took their losses and threw themselves heavily into their spice farming. They planted the crops, exported them, and rode out every day together. Eventually, Bedelia found herself again with child, to the delight of both of them. It was not to be joyous, however.  
  
Dying shortly after giving birth to a big, healthy baby girl, Bedelia left Arvide a tormented man for a long time. Hiring a nurse to take care of little Biddy, his gaining prestige on Grenada meant nothing to him. He vowed to cherish and protect his little daughter, to give her everything she could want for a good life. And now what had it gotten him? Big trouble, that was what. It looked like another one was passing out of his life. But he'd fight like hell before letting her out of his grasp for good.  
  
Thinking he heard the sound of men shouting and the rush of water against a ship, he rose expectantly. But it was only the ceaseless slap of water against the north side rocks. Returning to his seat beside a sleeping Emmeline, he rubbed his temples tiredly and resumed his thoughts. Biddy, he thought silently, if you come back I promise to be a better father. No more gifts to replace my presence, I'm going to be there. Just please, come back.  
  
The weather turned nasty as the remainder of the crew waited aboard the Pearl. Clouds clashed against one another as Mother Nature inflicted her whimsical storm upon the sea. No rain yet, but the water was sure getting stirred up. "Batten down the hatches, this might be a bad one." Jack advised, adding "and we might not make Tortuga proper before it comes."  
  
A low rumble branched out across the waves, promising thunder and lightning. Biddy, who had been watching the crew scrambling over the ship and stowing things, froze. Her feet, which had been idly thumping against the empty barrel she was sitting on, stilled in their motion. Her heart stopped for a moment as her hand flew to her mouth. But maybe she was imagining what she had heard. A large crate was being rolled by her, maybe that was it. It couldn't be...  
  
Another rumble of thunder caused her to leap down onto the deck, her breath in her throat and unable to escape into the air. She needed to get to a safe place, with a large table to hide under. Thinking of Jack's desk, she bolted once more for the captain's quarters.  
  
Jack, feeling pretty good about the whole situation, didn't even notice Biddy leave. He was watching the longboat's rocky progress to Tortuga harbor, glad that for once Biddy wasn't complaining, crying, or making a nuisance of herself. Childcare was easy, he reckoned, if you knew what you were doing. And Jack knew what he was doing ALL the time. It came with the territory. But he began to grow suspicious after a few moments. It was too quiet, he didn't even hear her feet hitting the barrel. Turning to check on her, he muttered a string of curses when she wasn't there.  
  
"Lookin' for the girl, cap'n?" Pib asked as he and a fellow crew member moved kegs. "Ease up, Ladbroc! I need to tell the cap'n something!" He called to his partner as though the man were a yard away.  
  
"Yeah, where'd the little horror run off to now?" Jack asked unenthusiastically.  
  
"To your quarters, cap'n." Pib said before again shouting at Ladbroc, this time to resume walking.  
  
"Oh hell," Jack said in exasperation, dashing to his quarters. If only there was some way to lock them from the inside. She'd better not be messing with his important papers. Upon entering the room, he listened for the tell tale sound of crying or the sight of papers flying everywhere. There was nothing. He couldn't see her anywhere, either. Maybe he'd check down in the brig. Pib might have misjudged where she was headed. After all, Pib HAD been the one to say that a magical talking dolphin stole all the rum once. Jack had believed him then, but now he had his doubts, about Biddy's location as well as the magical rum stealing dolphin.  
  
But then from down near the floor came the sounds of ragged breathing. Bending low to hear them, Jack crawled on his hands and knees toward the sound, able to hear it better when closer to the floor. It was originating under his desk. "Come on out of there." He said in what he hoped was a non-threatening (he didn't need any more tears) but firm voice. Biddy, curled tightly against the farthest corner of the desk, only stared at him. Her eyes seemed to swallow her pudgy cheeks, they were so wide, the whites forming a panicky ring around the iris. Her face was incredibly pale, lips pressed tightly together as hair fell onto her face.   
  
A flash of lightning illuminated the desk for a moment, causing Biddy to shake even more, as though with a horrible palsy. Her hands dug into her knees, and her little arms were tense with the strain of holding them close to her body. She wasn't crying for once, and Jack saw that as a bad sign. Biddy was too petrified to cry at all. She looked miserably at Jack, wishing with all her heart that she was back home at Ridgecroft, and safe. The thunder was much scarier aboard the rocking ship. The next clap of it, sounding as though a large boulder had been thrown on deck, made her start. Instinctively seeking someone to comfort her, she made a scuttling dash to Jack, and before he knew it her clammy arms were around his neck and she was whimpering and attempting to hide against him.   
  
Surprise didn't begin to describe what Jack felt. He was completely at a loss. If he moved her away, she might start to bawl, but Biddy hugging him threw him off balance. He had never been hugged by a little child and it was an unnerving experience. But he could also tell that she was incredibly afraid from the way she shook against him. "Alright, enough of that," he said after a few moments, trying to pry her away. "Stop now, what's it that's scaring you? The thunder?"   
  
Biddy only nodded mutely, her tongue feeling like a quaking, crouching rodent in her mouth. She couldn't make any sounds, not so much as a whimper. Lightning, and then the roar that followed caused the little girl to leap into Jack's lap and bury her face against his shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut. Her arms went around his middle this time as though he were a stuffed animal, and she sniffled. It felt better now that someone was with her, the thunder wasn't so scary. Even if it WAS this particular person.  
  
Jack, reconciled to the fact that she wouldn't let go of him until the thunder stopped, awkwardly patted her back, trying to think of something reassuring to tell her. Perhaps if she felt better, she might let go. "You know, it's not the thunder you have to worry about. It's the lightning. Thunder's just a noise, the lightning would fry you. If it got in here, it would completely..." Feeling her arms constrict his ribcage gave him the feeling that this wasn't the most calming of sentences. "Look, you want to learn a trick?" But she merely held on without responding one way or the other. "Count. Count the spaces between the time you see the lightning and the time you hear the thunder. It works." Lightning flashed, and Jack managed to count even though it felt as though her hold had bruised his lungs. "One piece of eight, two pieces of eight, three pieces of eight..."  
  
As he counted, he felt her grip loosen just enough to let him remember what air intake felt like. When the thunder clapped, she gulped and shut her eyes tight again. But Jack only kept counting. Soon, she found herself joining him, her voice almost inaudible at first. But then, she began to get the hang of it and her counting took over from the need to latch onto something. However, a lightning flash that seemed to nearly touch the window followed by a deafening rumble of thunder set them back to square one.   
  
Jack sighed heavily. He couldn't sit on the floor all day playing games and comforting this child, he had a ship to run. She really needed to calm down, she was completely on edge. He felt bad for her despite himself. Then he remembered what always did the trick for him when he felt pressure getting too great to handle or fear welling up inside of him. Granted, neither happened very often, but when they did he knew what to do. Getting up proved to be a challenge, Biddy would not let go, her arms moving back to circle around his neck. Reminded uncomfortably of a noose, Jack staggered to his feet. Walking VERY slowly out of his room, the weight of the child more like a yoke now than a noose, he headed for the helm. Pulling the hatch that Biddy had stumbled upon, he took a bottle out and looked at it reflectively.  
  
"What....what's that?" Biddy managed to choke out, looking at the bottle with some trepidation.  
  
"Rum cures all. Don't worry, you'll feel better after just a sip. Works for me when I need it." He added, pulling out the cork and putting the bottle in front of Biddy's face. She took a cautious sniff before letting go of Jack's neck with one hand to take the bottle. Her remaining hand dug into his skin and he flinched heavily, trying to set her down. Taking a sip of the rum, she screwed up her face a bit.  
  
"Tastes like medicine." She sputtered, swallowing it. Jack took the bottle from her and swigged it down to half.   
  
"Take another sip, then, go on. It IS medicine. My mum gave it to me when I fussed, and look how I turned out!" He added, handing her back the bottle and managing at last to make her let go of him entirely. Cautiously, Biddy took another drink. It tasted better this time, she decided, not as stern as it had. Sort of warm, nice. She could feel her insides relaxing, and the blaze of lightning wasn't nearly so horrifying. She DID feel better. The last of the rum disappeared as she swigged it down, almost as fast as Jack had downed the first of it.  
  
"You gave her.....WHAT??!" Anamaria asked as Jack passed the snoring Biddy into her hold. Stepping into the boat after doing so, he merely shrugged.  
  
"Rum. It's legitimate medicine, you know. And she needed it, she had a death grip on me." He added, pointing to the marks on his neck. "She was terrified of that thunder, I thought she could use a little forgetting."   
  
"Let me get this straight," Anamaria said slowly as she fought against the protesting waves with her oars. "You gave a seven year old child rum? Because she was scared?"  
  
She had come back alone in one of the longboats, and informed Jack he could anchor the Pearl and the men could take the other longboats and dock at Tortuga. Ever the cautious fellow, Jack detoured his ship to a seldom ventured into cove, laying anchor there as a hiding spot. He had no other alternative, since not even the parrot had wanted to stand guard this time.   
  
"Yeah. So?" Jack asked, shrugging. Anamaria, giving up on this venture, only sighed. "You know," Jack added reflectively, "it made her a lot easier to deal with. In fact, when she was scared she was easy to deal with too." After almost two entire bottles of rum, Biddy had staggered around on deck giggling senselessly until her knees gave out and she plunked on the deck. She promptly fell asleep after that, Jack looking pleased that she was over her fear. And so that was how Anamaria had found them.  
  
"You suggest we send a drunk and possibly petrified little girl back to her parents?" Anamaria asked, trying to keep near the other boats rowing for Tortuga's dock. Biddy moaned quietly in her sleep, thrashing against her nightmares.   
  
"If her parents don't come looking for her, she IS going to the nearest island with people on it." Jack said, glancing down at the stirring child. "Nothing's worth all the worry of her. She doesn't stay put, she's constantly into something, causes way too many distractions..."  
  
But something about the way she had hung onto him when she had been afraid made Jack think twice. She wasn't always a terrible little monster, just most of the time. Maybe he'd try hard to find her parents, instead of his initial plan to gag her and leave her in the nearest possible inn. Biddy at least deserved to find the people who were responsible for her. Maybe he'd ask for reimbursements, since he and the crew had to deal with all her noise. And for the two bottles of rum she had chugged down. Especially for that.  
  
But now, waking up, Biddy was moaning louder and thrashing more violently. Her unfocused eyes opened, and they sparkled with what might well be fever. Clutching onto the side of the rocking boat, the motion made her powerfully sick, and she threw up over the side. Anamaria kept looking straight ahead as she rowed.   
  
"We're going to the Silver Badger, there's room there for the whole crew, and even her. Gibbs, Kursar, Coulster, and Muggins headed off back the way we came in a different boat to see if anyone's combing the area for a little girl. If they are, Gibbs said he'll bring them straight here to Tortuga. All we have to do is wait." Anamaria said smugly as the boat pulled near the farthest dock. Several moments later, two other longboats pulled in.  
  
"I'd say I love you, but I've been given enough scratches by a female today." Jack observed, earning a not altogether playful shove backwards before Anamaria tried getting Biddy to sit up again. Wiping her mouth, the girl looked blearily first at Jack and then at Anamaria.  
  
"Swab the deck!" Mr. Cotton's parrot called out into the drizzly Tortuga air from another boat.   
  
"He's right, you know," Jack said solemnly as he took stock of the crew emptying from the longboats and assembling on the deck, "we should try to enjoy this. It's Tortuga again! Look sharp, lads, we're here as a base camp." He said sternly, furrowing his brow at the crew. They looked at him in disbelief and he laughed heartily. "Alright, I kid, I kid. Go on, hit the taverns, wreak havoc and all." He waved dismissively, then tried to slip away as well while Anamaria struggled to keep Biddy standing upright.  
  
"No, you don't!" She called over her shoulder. "You, Captain Sparrow are going to help me get her into the inn."  
  
"But you're perfectly capable of doing it, aren't you? Strong enough and all." Jack tried to reason with her, slowly backing up as he did so. "Just a peek around, and I'll be back to help out."  
  
"Nuh uh. If you bail on me now, so help me I'll hunt you through the streets and when I catch you, I'll skin you and use your hide for a fore-and-aft sail." Biddy looked at Jack and dimly tried to walk over to him. "Lord knows why, but I think she wants to walk with you," Anamaria added, gladly assisting the girl. "Alright, that's it, take Captain Sparrow's hand, and he'll help us get to the inn." She consoled the child with a malicious smirk for Jack as she did.  
  
Glaring blackly at Anamaria, Jack nonetheless accepted Biddy's clammy hand clenched in his. If they moved quickly he might have some saving grace. He didn't need these big, often brutish pirates to see him strolling along the street hand in hand with a little child. Very embarrassing. Pulling his hat down over his face as much as possible, he tried to walk fast. Biddy couldn't keep pace, she stumbled and nearly fell. He would have carried her for speed's sake, but he remembered vividly her throwing up earlier and decided that he didn't want to take a chance of her throwing up all over him.  
  
"Awww, lookit there!" A voice exclaimed before three rather bawdy women surrounded Jack, Anamaria, and Biddy. "She's adorable!" The first one crooned at the girl.   
  
"I love that nose, too! It's so round and shiny!" The second one remarked. Biddy, dirty moist hair clinging to her pale face and dark circles under her frightened eyes, merely hung onto Jack's hand, and reached for Anamaria with the other hand. In her muddy vision, these women looked eerily like descending monsters, and they smelled like heavy, cloying incense. She shrank back further when the third pinched her cheek.  
  
"Such CUTE little freckled cheeks!" The woman exclaimed, before eyeing first Anamaria and then Jack, and looking back down at Biddy. "Is she....yours?" The woman asked in obvious confusion.  
  
"No!" Jack and Anamaria said together quickly. "She's a stowaway, we're looking to return her back to her parents, but she's staying here until then." Jack added, trying to twist his hand away from Biddy's grip which had gotten steadily more insistent.  
  
"The poor dear!" All three exclaimed, fawning over Biddy more.  
  
"Don't be fooled." Anamaria said grimly, "she's a living nightmare. She's just drunk right now, we're going to the Silver Badger to wait out her claimers."  
  
"DRUNK!" The first woman gasped. "How positively terrible, that's no way to treat a child. You should leave her with us, she'll be safe and we'll get her to the Silver Badger before nightfall. You'll both be free to have a go at...at whatever it is you'd do if you didn't have her with you." Anamaria looked at Jack, before both looked down at Biddy. Something about leaving her with these strange women didn't feel right to Anamaria. So she spoke before Jack could, knowing he would agree to their proposal. "Very kind of you, but we're perfectly fine. She's also sick, been throwing up." She added, to which the women recoiled before leaving altogether.  
  
"Why'd you do that, Anamaria? Tell them no, I mean." Jack asked curiously as they continued on, Biddy stumbling incoherently between them. "You wanted to get her off our hands, didn't you?"  
  
"Well, we need to make sure she's with us if they come back with Duggleby, and if she's with those women, she's not going to come back, is she? They don't exactly look like anyone's mother." Jack merely gave her an infuriatingly knowing grin. "Would you have said yes?" She asked in irritation.  
  
"Probably. But I don't need to see the inside of a jail cell any more in my lifetime, so maybe you're right about keeping her with us." He added, gesturing off handedly towards a small, gritty building. "There we are, the lovely Silver Badger." They entered, the three of them earning strange looks from the people not buried in their drink glasses or punching each other senseless. Jack waded through the folks lost in revelry and headed for the man standing (barricading, really) at the foot of the stairs. Biddy trailed uncomplainingly behind him, miraculously avoiding being knocked over as she kept her vise grip on his wrist.   
  
Approaching the tired looking inn-keeper, Jack leaned against the wall and ignored the look the fellow gave Biddy. "Look, you're the one we see about staying here, right?" He asked, trying to act like he didn't notice there was a small person trying to hide behind him.  
  
"No children, too rough for 'em here. Get her outta here." The innkeeper said gruffly, pointing one knobbly thumb towards the door.  
  
"Since when does a Tortugan innkeeper care about children?" Jack asked, a bit baffled.  
  
"We don't need a little monster in here, got it? Your crew told me about the hell that spawn's raising on your ship and I don't want it in my inn! Boomer Shmenkar doesn't need bad business!" He shouted, his face a livid red.   
  
"Well, she's not doing it NOW." Jack reasoned, bodily lifting Biddy to show the man her harmlessness. "See? She'll be like this until they come to get her." He gave her a little shake and she merely stared at Shmenkar with blank eyes.  
  
"Fine, fine. Up the stairs and find what you can, not any further help then that." Innkeeper Shmenkar waved distractedly before turning his attention to two men fighting over a buxom woman who tossed her light curls flirtingly as she watched them. Jack, too turned his attention to the fight, more trying to catch the eye of the prize than to watch the fighters. But he felt another yank at his sleeve and sighed.  
  
"What did he say?" Anamaria asked once she had pried Jack's attention from the other activities, namely the prize that was now winking at Jack.  
  
"Up the stairs, the girl can, stay if she doesn't make trouble. Take her and she'll go with you," Jack muttered distractedly, trying to turn his head back and return the wink. Anamaria grabbed his jaw this time and yanked his head around to face her.   
  
"No. YOU come with us. When she falls asleep..." Anamaria looked down at Biddy and then whispered the rest in Jack's ear so the girl wouldn't get wind of it, "when she falls asleep you can go. She got attached to you, God knows why."  
  
"Why're you whispering?" Jack asked loudly, glancing from Biddy who was now clinging to his arm with both hands to Anamaria.  
  
"BeCAUSE," she whispered again, "she IS a person, she can understand what we say. If she hears me tell you to leave, she'll never go to sleep!" Jack looked even more puzzled and Anamaria sighed. "Just don't say anything and come with us, okay?" At Jack's emphatic nod, Anamaria gently touched Biddy on the shoulder. The girl, who was trying to hide as she watched the fight, snapped around and looked wide eyed at Anamaria. The woman marveled at the change in Biddy from a loud obnoxious brat to...well....whatever she was now.  
  
In the small room above the main floor of the inn, sounds of fighting thrummed up through the floorboards. A light sleeper could turn insomniac in Tortuga, and this particular room proved that well. Every time a chair was broken or a punch thrown, the chest of drawers and beds rattled heavily. Biddy climbed with no complaint onto one of the beds and pulled one of the blankets absently to her chin. She seemed almost like a zombie, saying nothing and making no noise. "I think she's sick." Jack pontificated.  
  
"Gee, really? Maybe it was the rum, you think?" Anamaria practically growled.  
  
"It's never the rum!" Jack countered heatedly. "Musta been the boat ride, sea sick and such." Anamaria only glared at him a moment before she looked critically at Biddy.  
  
"You gonna be sick again?" She asked, almost gently, as she felt Biddy's cheeks. They weren't overly hot or cold, a very good thing indeed. The last thing they needed was for the missing child of a well to do tycoon to get sick in the bargain of being found among wanted pirates. But Biddy didn't look exactly healthy, either. Just sort of shocked into silence.  
  
"No," Biddy croaked. "Just a little scared. This place is scary."  
  
"It's not scary, it's Tortuga!" Jack exclaimed as he struck a pose, trying his best to be cheerful. When both females fixed him with twin looks of annoyance, he muttered and dropped his hands. "Well, I tried, didn't I?"  
  
"It's alright, we've got people out looking for your father right now. We just have to stay here until he comes." Anamaria continued. "But you should sleep." She added, sitting beside a hunkered-down Biddy.  
  
"I can't, I'm afraid." She said simply, clutching the blanket draped over her with both hands. Anamaria shrugged helplessly as she pondered what to do. The girl needed to sleep or she WOULD get sick, was the woman's estimation. Rising, she saw with amusement that when she got up Biddy's hand shot out for Jack's wrist, and after only a moment of trying to pull away, he resigned himself to being held onto again. Meandering around the small room, Anamaria opened a drawer to find a discarded petticoat and a threadbare hairbrush.   
  
"Captain Sparrow, c'mere." Anamaria said after a moment of thought. Jack tried to oblige, but sat down again promptly.   
  
"No, I think you need to come here," he corrected, pointing obtrusively to Biddy. Anamaria did so, and whispered her plan to Jack. He nodded, a bit doubtful but willing to try anyway. That girl down on the first floor didn't look occupied at the moment....  
  
Anamaria grabbed the small brush and sat down beside Biddy again. The girl looked apprehensively up at her when Anamaria motioned her to sit forward, doing so with cautious slowness. Anamaria began to attack Biddy's grungy, extremely knotted hair with the brush, trying her best not to yank any hair out. It had been awhile since she had brushed anyone's hair, including her own. After a few moments, she motioned to Jack and he began to tell another of his stories.  
  
"There was this time I actually had an entire Fort surrendering to me, didn't have to fire a single shot. Of course, Gibbs and I DID have to dress up like women for a stint and there was that nasty business with the imported cheese to go through..." After an hour or so, Biddy's hair was no less filthy and no less tangled, but the motion of the brush against her hair had soothed her considerably. She was laughing at the story and half leaning into Anamaria, her eyes lidded with sleep as she smiled.   
  
"So you really DID steal the Ambassador's terrier?" She asked between bouts of laughter, and at Jack's nod, she began positively howling with mirth.  
  
"Ay! You, boy! Don' forget abou' the carriages! An' LOSE THAT PIPE!" The surly head groom Oleg shouted to the stable boy before climbing into the loft. The stable boy nodded, rolling his eyes as he clenched his teeth on his pipe to stifle a shouted response He didn't bloody need any more reminding about the bloody carriages. He'd COVER them already.  
  
After he had watered the last of the guest's horses, he made a great show of covering the carriages with oilcloth. The head groom glared down at him once, at which time he quickly stashed the pipe under the oilcloth of the current carriage, his last. After which, the stable boy made his way tiredly to bed. He had forgotten about the pipe under the oilcloth. The lit pipe smoldered, creating a smoking tent. The exhausted men didn't hear the anxious snorts of the four horses until all the animals began to kick their stalls to splinters in panic. When all four had gotten loose, the stable boy heard them burst through the barn door and out into the night. "Horse thieves!" He muttered to himself. He hurriedly woke the head groom and, without a thought as to the carriage now earnestly emitting smoke, both dashed after the terrified cart horses.  
  
The people in the inn were far too wrapped up in their affairs to pick out the sounds of escaping horses, and no one came to investigate the odd sounds. By now the oilcloth had caught fire, the blaze licking hungrily at the dry wood, creeping with sickening speed to all corners of the Silver Badger stables. Soon the flames had found a new food, the piles of straw in the stalls, and the large pile of hay in the loft. They began to inch their way towards the main building, the smoke leaking in through cracks in the door connecting the stables to the inn.   
  
"Eh, I'll leave in a bit," Jack decided, Biddy having switched from Anamaria's shoulder to his. "Don't want to risk waking her up again and all that." Anamaria merely smirked and tugged a pillow out from under Biddy. The little girl only sighed quietly and settled back against Jack. "She's alright, I guess." He said grudgingly, almost unaware of the fact that his arm was asleep from Biddy's weight against it. "But I'll be glad when she's gone."  
  
All three were sleeping quietly shortly after midnight. If any of them smelled the smoke drifting sinisterly in through the bottom floor, it was only in their dreams. 


End file.
